Together In Hell
by SanjouinDacapo
Summary: She's been reviled for years, yet couldn't help being who she was, yet it's so easy to blame the one whose only crime was being a female turtle. Story breaks fourth wall but not for laughs. Even if you hate her, try and listen to her side of the story.


Yes, you may hate her, and maybe you think she ruined The Next Mutation. There were a lot of other reasons that it failed(despite getting modest ratings) but hey, it's easier to blame the one turtle with the vagina, right? Well, here's her side of the story. It ain't pretty. And it does break the fourth wall(not for laughs though) but has no actual 'real life' people portrayed or mentioned by their real names.

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><p>Perhaps you do not want to hear this, but I have all the time in the world to tell. If you wish, you can listen, even if you despise me, even if you would rather deny my existence as so many have. It is so lonely and cold. As ridiculous as it may seem to you... I once was loved.<p>

It began when they created me. They were making a new series for the 'Ninja Turtles' and needed someone to attract the girls, so they made a female turtle. I can still remember opening my eyes, watching as those blurry shapes became people, my surroundings. Then I saw them... four other turtles... and a rat. These would be my new family, the creators told me. My back story was, I was found by a human and taken to China, where he raised me as his daughter. It was a typical sort of tale - an otherworldly orphan, adopted without any paperwork and hidden from the outside world.

Most of the people I met liked me, but this one man, the Great One, hated me with a passion. It was simply because I was female. But how could one hate someone for being a girl? I could not change my shape, nor could I change my gender that easily, and my creators would not allow me to have any such operation. Instead, they subjected me to many painful surgeries.

They found my plastron - my underside - to be too flat, too masculine. Apparently they had not read anything about turtle anatomy, for the females have flat plastrons, while the males are concave - curved inward so they can mate. It seemed that these creators... or perhaps the Great One... had also given them operations to flatten them out in front. However, they seemed to suffer no ill effects.

I on the other hand was in hell since awakening from my first surgery. They had to break my plastron and use a cruel device that was reminiscent of a corset or stay from Victorian times. They broke the sides of my shell to give me the appearance of 'childbearing hips', as if turtle sensibilities were the same as those of mammals. They even broke the plastron just below where my collarbone would be if I had one, implanting these wedge-like things that hurt like nothing else. I shudder to think how they flattened the other four.

After I recovered, if you could even call that, shooting began. This is when my creators started yelling at me to act more feminine, to be more serious, to be a little silly with my metaphors since I was from a different country. Even with the training I had undergone, it was still excruciatingly painful to do any of these moves. In the first shot where I had arrived, you see, there was supposed to be a scene where I was shown fighting the four turtles, but I was so weak and sick that they decided to just have a shot where the lights were out, some sound-effects of punching and grunting, and then a shot of the four hanging upside down. Near the end of that episode, when I almost fainted, that was real, not acting. What the viewers did not see was me rejecting my meal on the set.

That night, Raphael took me home and held me, letting me scream and cry from the horrible pain. I had felt like a freak, but when I was alone with the other turtles and Splinter, I felt as though I belonged. Sometimes I can still feel his gentle hands rubbing my neck as I sicked into the toilet. I was still in hell, somewhat, but it was bearable when he was at my side. The series even had some modest ratings, but some people hated me just for being what I was... something I could not help.

Then, the series ended, and the Great One came to gloat. He took one look at me and punched me in the face. I could not retaliate... it was not my nature... I wanted to be his friend. As I fell to the floor, shocked at this treatment, I noticed even my creators were distancing themselves from me. At the very least, a second season was being made... only it was text on a website. They told us to write about our adventures as instructed, and I was given only a few scripts to follow. Maybe it was just as well, because I was often too sick from the stress of work and malnutrition to do much of anything.

Of course, I couldn't say no to Raph taking me for a ride on his motorcycle. Even if I was feeling ill, going out for awhile into the cool, fresh air sounded inviting. I apologised profusely after having to stop and retch in the gutter. Raph, however, just waited for me to finish, all the while stroking my neck and shell, and whispering soothingly that it would be okay. He walked me back to his place and let me rinse my mouth and then sleep lying down in his lap. He was so very worried, as if I could die. What he didn't know is I could not die... it was not written in my character. I'm immortal.

When I awoke, I was in an unfamiliar, dark place. A shadowy figure approached, and spoke to me. It was the Great One. He told me, "You were the worst idea EVER! And as long as I have control, you will NEVER be mentioned again. Then he kicked me hard in my plastron, several times, until it cracked and I began to cough up blood. I felt as though I was dying, yet I knew death would never find me.

It is almost funny how years later some TV show would have a sketch where I apparently tried to flush myself down the toilet and drowned, after being kicked off the team. Just note that if I could commit suicide, I would never do it in such an obvious and humiliating fashion. As it is, I had no such luxury.

Shortly after my attack, I went to see the other turtles but was barred from visiting them. When they came out of the building, they seemed normal, but only took short glances at me. They didn't look afraid or sad, but it was like they... did not know me at all. Someone was talking with them about a 'dream' they had, about a girl. That girl, the creators said, was just an illusion. There was never a girl turtle. There would never be one.

After wandering alone for years, once again I confronted the Great One. There were still some people who loved me, who wanted to at least mention me in some of the new works. He was still adamant that there would be no female turtles. Having chewed out the ones who cared, who remembered, he dragged me to another dark room and took a baseball bat with him. There, he savagely kicked and beat me until I wondered if there was any part unscathed, untouched, and all the while he screamed "WHY CAN'T YOU DIE? YOU DON'T EXIST! YOU NEVER EXISTED! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST DIE?"

Then he left, satisfied I was gone for good. Drawing in shallow breaths, I rose, weakly hanging onto what felt like a window sill. I could not see well through the blood rushing into my eyes. Once on my knees, I noticed something. The pain was gone. Was I dead? Was I really dead? Had his wish come true?

I wiped the blood and dust from my eyes, then looked at my hands, then my battered body. No... I was still alive. Even this could not get rid of me. I was alive... broken, alive... and completely numb. It was as if I was floating in the air, watching everything from above, yet I was still there, could feel the cold floor, the wooden sill, the dusty air. Inside, I felt cold and numb, almost euphoric. Looking up at the ceiling through the tinge of blood, I began to laugh.

At first it came out as what sounded like gasps or sobs, but I was smiling. My eyes were open wide, as wide as my smile, and as I got up and walked out of that room, my laughter grew louder, more maniacal. I could not believe it was coming from me. Out on the street, nobody noticed me. They did not care. Nobody did, really... except for the Great One, whom I now haunt.

He cannot kill me, for I exist now in his deepest regrets. Every night I stand by his bedside, stroking his head and singing lullabies while he tosses and turns. Every night I stand waiting, waiting for when his life ends. Then we will be together.

We will be together forever in hell.


End file.
